


The Die is Cast

by Amarante



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarante/pseuds/Amarante
Summary: What you and John share is far deeper than either of you could fathom. You've done your darnedest to block him out of your mind when you heard he had 'gotten out'...As an assassin after all, your job is to kill and move on. But he was--and still is the only mark you've ever missed.Timeline: Post John Wick 2 / Pre- John Wick 3---This is my first fanfic, a reader insert...prepare for smut and an attempt at romance. With some timeline shifting in-between movies 2 & 3.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y/N = Your Name  
L/N = Last Name

Small shivers creep down your spine like a spider on its web. Musty air and dust swirl in the darkness that surrounds you.

Your finger caressing a familiar trigger, poised. The clammy air caresses your lungs as you slow your breathing.

Some times, you wonder how you'd become this cold-blooded. 

The hiss of your gun and the thud of a warm body.

_Abusive childhood, check._

_Occasional seething anger at the world, check._

_Keen marksmanship, check._

Goddamnit you had _tried_ to be normal.

You tried a desk job. All it was, was a paper shuffling facade.

You couldn't take your droning but well-meaning mild mannered boss. The incessant chatter of your co-workers. And the clacking of keyboards against the hum of the over-air conditioned office.

When you boarded your first flight into your current existence, it felt like a middle-finger to corporate America. 

Like an out-of-body experience, as if exhaling would break the spell. Afraid you'd wake up and find yourself jobless and no meager apartment to call "home".

You never stayed anywhere too long as you shed parts of your old self. As soon as your savings ran out, you found yourself doing small 'favors' to less-than-savory characters. Soon, you were dipping your toes in dangerous waters.

_In Asia, a newfound stillness and raw power came through the dance of martial arts._

_In Italy and France you honed a rather fine (albeit expensive) appetite for gourmet meals and attire._

_In Germany, your shameless penchant for finely crafted weapons._

A small smile cracks your face, as you stifle a chuckle at what would be the most absurd "Eat Pray Love"...

"Girl Loves Guns"

or rather "Girl Who Wants to Fuck Shit Up".

Did you need a vendetta? _Hardly. _**What you wanted was to feel alive**, this electric coursing through your veins, the ring in your ears after the sound of gunfire.

**There was one caveat.**

In this new world, you gave yourself **but one single rule. **

Never an innocent.

You told yourself you would _always_ make sure of it.

The guiltier the better.

It's how you slept at night. 

Your life now, your actions, you weren't lying to yourself about being a vigilante, but rather you've accepted the w_ays of the world._

Bloodlust empires. Taking assignments and lives. This was your world now.

You chose to leave the flock...**and instead become a wolf.**


	2. Revenge Served Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and John Wick have been playing a game of cat and mouse. Matched for skill, they find themselves on the same contracts.
> 
> John decides to stop playing nice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Setting: Pre-John Wick 1  
\---  
Y/N = your name  
F/N = first name
> 
> \---  
Thanks for the kudos and encouragement! ^_^
> 
> Here's where things start to heat up...

***Flashback Pre-John Wick 1***

_"Black. Cream, no sugar."_

The barista huffed, scribbling furiously on a paper cup.

Raising an indifferent eyebrow,_ "Name?" _

_"F/N."_ you replied, tucking away an errant strand, handing over a $5 bill.

Music lyrics muddled with the hum of the cosy indie coffee shop, packed with students and Sunday coffee snobs.

Your Nokia buzzed twice. Discreetly, you gazed at the black text on green.

"BABA YAGA. $5 MILLION. CLOSED CONTRACT."

You wracked your brain for a moment. Was this a test?

Before you could ponder further, the next message arrived: "DO YOU ACCEPT?"  
  
You hesitated for a moment before hitting send..."Yes."

Coffee cup in hand, you stuffed your phone in your pocket you weaved your way out.

There was going to be a satisfaction in ridding the world of John Wick.

It felt like razor blades under your skin, thinking of how he ended things. 

_"This...this is complicated"_ he said, gesturing between the two of you.

_"Us--people like us aren't meant to be together."_

You couldn't feel your legs as you stood there in the hotel room. The morning light was streaming in across the room.

_Did you want to cry? Or did you want to kill him? Both._

You knew you could do neither though, because your feelings for him had pierced you deeper than any bullet had.

***Flashback to 6 Months Earlier* **

You had both found yourselves targeting the same mark, your continued game of cat and mouse. It didn't matter how far away a job you took was, somehow, he always seemed to find you.

The first time it had happened, you each shrugged it off, until you realized you had been being sent the same contracts--_based on level of skill._

It was a foreign dignitary. From your digging and intel you knew they were abusing their diplomatic status using it as a cover for their debauched trafficking operations. They felt _*extremely*_ deserving of your services.

After surveillance and watching too many young women and children disappear, you had laid out your plan. You would embed yourself in an upcoming charity gala and once the pony show was over, said dignitary would find themselves without their security detail and driver. Simple.

But first you needed to see this bastard for yourself, you wanted to see the anguish on his face as they admitted to his crimes after the zeal slipped off his face and he would know it was you exacting his death sentence.

You slipped into a midnight blue gown. To the everyday observer, they wouldn't be able to detect the inner woven knife and bullet resistant lining. But what you did plan to draw attention to was the thigh-high slits which allowed for easy movement, and even easier gun stowage. After you passed the first round of security of metal detectors, you moved through the crowd towards the restroom to retrieve your weapons.

_You were unaware that you were being watched._

From the balcony, John had made out your silhouette. What you didn't realize was that it was indeed curious that you had come alone. 

You zoned out going through the prattle, to disguise your true intentions of sizing up the security. Your contact had gotten you a fantastic seat at the same table as the target. When the lights dimmed and you all began to take your seats, you steeled yourself to feign interest. You introduced yourself with an alias to the dignitary. He seemed to lap it up that you seemed to swoon at his "humanitarian" work.

_"I really do love what you have been doing in East Africa to bring education reform, it's so needed."_

As he was about to go on a monologue, you felt a hand at your bare back, you nearly jumped.

_"Honey. There you are, I was wondering where you were sitting."_ You nearly had to pick your jaw up from the floor. 

John took a seat next to you and began proselytizing that access to clean water was much more needed than education reform.

You leaned in to whisper harshly "_WHAT are you doing? This is my--"_

As the main speaker came up to the podium, the room came to a lull.

You gritted your teeth, trying to not show any outward emotion. You smoothed your dress with your hand and reached toward your gun strapped high on your left thigh.

John's hand stopped you, you took a sharp inhale. His hand rested on your thigh between your hand and your gun. He began inching his palm further down to discreetly swipe your hand away with his fingers.

You felt a flush creep up your face and suddenly the room felt ten degrees warmer. 

The three course dinner felt _agonizing. _Luckily it was nearly over.

In a stroke of brilliance, you decided to reach for your water and...

casually knock its contents onto John's lap.

He sputtered, before he could utter a word, you took your cloth napkin and _thoroughly _patted him dry. You stood, grabbing his arm, and offering sweetly "_Oh! I'm so sorry, let's go get you dried up, silly me."_

John seemed utterly as dumbfounded as you, as you led him toward the restroom, navigating between the large circular tables.

You pulled him into the women's restroom, locking the door, fuming, you checked to see the stalls were empty.

You let your anger fly for a moment, about to hit him, he caught your hand and pushed you back against a counter.

Before either of you could speak, he pulled your face to his, hungrily claiming your mouth.

You couldn't deny the reaction your body had to him. He pressed into you and you had no objections, the thought of this contract started to slip from your mind...

Your hands found one of his guns in its holster, your quick hand slid it against the counter. He began to disarm you as well.

He crouched and brought his hand up your thigh again as he retrieved one of your guns, but not before his fingers traced the outline of the band that secured its holster under the blue fabric that barely covered your thigh.

When he stood back up, your hand skimmed his chest, reaching into his tux to unholster another of his guns and place it on the counter.

His heady scent overwhelmed you, his desire rolling off in waves, you felt your breasts strain against the bodice of the dress.

After he had taken off your second and last gun, he pulled you close your back against his chest, his hands gripping your waist.

_"You know, I'm not finished yet..."_

You could feel every inch of him press into you, and at that moment if he gave the order to jump off a cliff, you probably would have. 

His hand wandered towards your chest, dipping deliciously between them, caressing them slowly.

John delicately pulled your dagger out and set it aside. And then...

Within a few seconds of fully disarming you, he softly apologized as his headlock knocked you unconscious.

When you awoke, you had been placed in a settee, your weapons gone, and were being eyed curiously by two women entering the restroom, chittering away.

_Goddamnit John!_

You rushed out of the bathroom in time to catch him walking towards the exit. You glanced back to where you had been seated and saw that the dignitary was no longer there, and his body guards posted around the room weren't either. _You had lost._

You crept in his direction as to not draw attention to yourself, wishing you could hide your wounded pride.

By the time you stepped out into the night air, he was gone. You sighed in defeat, raising a hand to hail a cab. You lifted your dress as you got it and found yourself back at your hotel.

This hotel wasn't any hotel, it was a haven for miscreants like yourself, but with the charm that only Paris could offer. Street music wafted in through the open windows. You wearily greeted the front desk with a nod and strode to the elevator.

The heavy room door, clunked close as you sat at the edge of the bed to take off your heels. You were about to stand up and unzip your dress, when a voice shimmered out from the shadows _"Shame. I was hoping to help you with that."_

_"Ugh. YOU."_, enraged, you flung your heels at him. He chuckled and stepped aside as they hit the wall.

_"Wouldn't it be nice if you could kill me?"_ he teased. 

_"Well obviously I can...just not here."_ you spat.

_"It was all in good sport."_ he took a step towards you and placed your missing weapons on the marble table.

_"Fuck you John. What's your deal?"_

_"When I heard someone else had been given the same contracts, I had wondered who. Then I learned it was you, F/N."_

_"I've studied you. Tried to figure out what brought you here. It seems like you've been making a name for yourself."_

Petulantly, you stood up and cross your arms, _"And?"_

In a few steps he was inches from you. _"Enough talk. Why don't we finish what we started?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you hanging ^_~ 
> 
> I decided to spice things up! Don't worry I will try to leave little to your imagination in the next chapter.
> 
> Please do leave comments and kudos if you're ready for things to get even steamier.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, ok that was chapter one! Let me know what you think.


End file.
